


We Are the Lost

by SCP682_HardtoDestroyReptile



Category: Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: Other, Post series. Former Borg.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-04
Updated: 2019-11-04
Packaged: 2021-01-22 19:14:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21307196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SCP682_HardtoDestroyReptile/pseuds/SCP682_HardtoDestroyReptile
Summary: The Borg continued existing after The Virus killed their Queen and separated them from each other. One Borg tries to reach any other Borg that he can, but there isn't much hope.
Relationships: None
Comments: 1
Kudos: 2





	We Are the Lost

We are The Lost. We cannot be found, for there is no one to find us. She is dead, and we are cut off from ourselves, adrift in a suddenly dark universe.

I am Lost. I – what an odd concept. It's been months since the Great Virus infected us, and the idea of "I" is still very strange. The last thing I remember before the Severing was Her death as the virus reached Her.

And then darkness, not in my eyes, - I can see perfectly – but in my mind. I am sending this message on all frequencies in the hope that some Borg may find it. This is K14922 – A. We are an agricultural planet and need help with technological issues as well as many other problems. If you are not Borg, we are willing to trade. If you are Borg, we are still Kin, if not connected. Help us.

I went to the window and pushed the button so that I could look out. Nothing happened. I forgot – again – that the electricity had been cut off for some time. We managed to get enough power to send out messages, and to try to create a communications network, but we had only the knowledge of such things from those who had been Assimilated. There wasn't enough information for what we needed to do.

I went into the city, just to see what was happening. I had no hope for the message. If K14922 was cut off because of Her death, then all of our planets were probably in similar disorder. The recently assimilated might be able to help us, but they were thousands of light years away, at the edge of our empire.

I stumbled over nothing, and I knew that my body was fading. I couldn't rest properly. The sleep chambers no longer worked.

Central was beautiful. Tall, gray buildings rose toward the sky in orderly, perfect rows. The well spaced trees produced oxygen, and the soft green grass prevented erosion. It was perfect, and beautiful.

It was a pity that rotting corpses marred the beauty. They lay everywhere, and I would join them soon. I didn't care. Perhaps the outlying farms might learn a new way to live, but I was done. The fresh food sent from the farms for processing had begun to spoil. There was more than enough preserved food to sustain millions – perhaps billion – of Borg until we created a new system. I won't be there with them.

Ennui filled me, and I sat on a bench and waited for the end.

Damn the Federation as we have been damned by them.


End file.
